We celebrated Dave Schneider’s upcoming wedding last night with the traditional boy’s-night-out blowout known as a “stag party”. I won’t go into too many details, but there was food, and then the BC Lions’ football game, and then… well, you know where stags must go, right? It’s a moral imperitive.
We went to see naked ladies. And drink. But how we got to where we ended up is a bit of a story that I want to share. Colin, Ken and I aren’t huge football fans, so we left the game after the third quarter was over in order to make sure we could all avoid a lineup and get a decent table at the Cecil, our strip-club of choice for that night. We made our way there and waited in line for about a half-hour.
Then bouncer at the door had a thick russian accent and was forcing everyone to get in line, even women that were expecting to be able to skip it. Just as we got to the front of the line, a group of three girls showed up and were surprised when they were sent to the back of the line and even said out loud “You mean we have to wait in line? Really?”
Colin said “Yeah,” and jokingly added “we’ve been here three hours already! I even gave this guy fifty bucks and nothin’!” The girls turned around in disbelief.
“What? Three hours!?” but stopped when they saw the three of us grinning at them. You’d think that’d be it. A harmless joke and then some body language to let the recipient know it was all in fun.
But the bouncer didn’t think it was very funny. Or he’s an asshole who likes playing power games. Or both. I’m guessing both, because he stepped towards Colin and said in his thick russian accent mobster voice “Hey, you keep your mouth shut or you won’t be getting in at all. Nobody ask you nothing, right?”
Colin’s normally a pretty confrontational guy, but I could see that he remembered that we were here for a special occasion and that he didn’t want to spoil it. He immediately backed down saying he was just having a little fun. My mood dropped and I quickly realized that if we did go in we’d all be in a bad mood anyway. So I said “Forget it then. Let’s just go somewhere else.” and walked out of the line. I looked at the bouncer as I left and Colin and Ken followed me and added “It was just a fucking joke, man.”
The rest of the boys were on there way, so we had to find somewhere else to go. Ken suggested The Penthouse, but added that it was kind of a dive and the girls weren’t as good there. I just wanted somewhere we could all go and drink and didn’t really care. We made our way there, went in (no lineup!) and… it was great!
The crowd was generally young and cool. The girls were gorgeous and friendly. The drinks were outrageously overpriced… ok, so it wasn’t perfect. Still, you expect the latter at this type of establishment.
But now we get to the real reason for this post! One of the dancers was amazing! No, not just that she was attractive (she was, very) or that she got naked (c’mon, they all do that) or was flexible (boy, was she ever). She put on a great show, and had a great smile that told me (or maybe fooled me) that she was having a great time doing it.
There was hot wax and some clever rope tricks and a bunch of other things I’d never seen before from an exotic dancer. Oh, and that smile… it lit up the room. I was mesmerized. I did some Internet detective work this morning and found out who she was: Cyd Harlow. There’s very little information on her online, though she’s been in an independent short film (A Private Dance with Cyd Harlow) and she won “Most Original Show” at Miss Nude Canada 2004.
This is the only good photo I’ve found of her online. It’s not-safe-for-work when enlarged though:
She needs an official web site. Cyd, if you find this googling for yourself, email me.
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